when we speak of love
by kohee
Summary: Shiraishi thinks she may be missing Aizawa. Aizawa thinks he misses Shiraishi, too. Aizawa/Shiraishi


one-shot; _when we speak of love  
_ pairing: aizawa kosaku/shiraishi megumi  
word count: 4584 words  
note: So apparently, I need more closure than I thought. More notes at the end.

* * *

Aizawa received Shiraishi's email once he turned on his phone. He was standing at the baggage carousel, waiting, and he tapped on her email. It was a short email, only a few lines long, a generic how-are-you-hope-all-is-good, and requesting, if she could have it, his contact details in Toronto. A phone number, and an address perhaps. She wished him well, told him that everyone sent their regards, and she hoped to hear from him sometime.

 _When you're settled in, and when you have the time._

He didn't reply her email, not until four days later.

That night, he returned to his small apartment, exhausted after days of orientation, his head crammed with facts and figures and procedures, his brain still struggling to understand the culture and the language of everything he had been exposed to. It was infinitely more difficult that what he had expected, but it wasn't anything that he couldn't take. After all, he thrived on challenge, relished on it, and he would face this head on, as he did with everything else.

He unboxed a frozen dinner, and popped it into the microwave. Grabbing a beer from his tiny fridge, he pulled back the tab. His phone beeped then, and he pulled it out. It was a message from his new head of department, requesting for a meeting first thing tomorrow morning. He typed out a reply, and sent the message. His eyes landed on the mail icon on his phone, and he was reminded of the email he received on the day he landed in Toronto.

Aizawa leaned against the kitchen counter, and tapped on the icon, bringing up her email. He read it again, and he could almost see her face, hear her voice. He had not missed Japan much since arriving, had not thought about home, had not thought about _her,_ simply because he didn't have the time to, but now, in the solitude of his apartment, he felt it.

He thought perhaps, just perhaps, he missed her.

So he tapped on the reply button - _all is well_ \- and he included his Canadian phone number and address with the email, and sent it.

* * *

Shiraishi received Aizawa's email as she was getting ready to start her shift. She smiled when she saw his name, and was about to read it when the emergency phone started ringing. Abandoning her phone, she picked up the call, and listened as the request was made for the services of the Heli and its flight doctors. She noted all the details, and grabbed the bag of medical supplies, sprinting towards the launchpad, with Natori and Yukimura close behind her.

His email was pushed to the back of her mind, as her patients took precedent, as they always did. She didn't look at her phone again until late evening, as she was typing up the medical reports for the day. Fujikawa was the one that reminded her of it, as he casually wondered out-loud whether had Aizawa managed to annoy anyone at Toronto already, with his signature aloofness. She laughed at that – probably, as Aizawa would always be Aizawa – and then she reached for her phone, tapping on her unread emails.

She scrolled to his email, and read it, smiling to herself at how few words it actually contained. She turned to her laptop, and accessed her mailbox. She had a little more time, she would write him a longer note.

 _Dear Aizawa,_ she wrote. _All is well here, too_. _Today is a good day for Lifesaving._

They didn't lose any patients today. There was one particularly tricky case on location, but thanks to Natori's quick observation, the patient was saved. She wrote about Natori's rapid growth and development into an excellent flight doctor. The young Fellow, surprisingly, had really progressed after Hiyama's departure. Haitani was still finding his way, and Yokomine was improving by leaps and bounds, but Natori had been the one that had truly blossomed.

 _And I'm grateful for you, because you were an excellent mentor to Natori-sensei in the months before you left._

Shiraishi stopped typing. Her email was getting to be really long, and she supposed she should stop. But she was so used to sharing everything with him – of course, the difference was that he was there with her, beside her – and it was almost habitual, somehow.

 _I hope you've settled in Toronto. Please take care. Lifesaving misses you._

 _I miss you_ , she typed, and then she stopped. The words blinked out at her from the screen, and suddenly, she felt it.

She missed him.

She looked towards the desk where he usually sat, and a pang of emotions washed over her. She could almost see him sitting there, frowning at a medical report, or looking at her with that impassive face. She could hear his voice, telling her to take care of herself, to take better care of herself.

 _Worry about yourself. You're always putting Lifesaving first_.

It was natural to miss him, she thought to herself. They had spent ten years together. He was her comrade, her colleague, her friend, one of the people that had been her constant. She saw him, nearly every day, for ten years of her life. And now, he wasn't here anymore. That was hard to get used to.

However, for some reason, she chose to send the email without her sentiment.

* * *

Aizawa replied her email one week later.

Again, the residency took up all his time. For now, he was, more or less, settled into his residency, at the very least, he knew what was expected of him. It was a demanding and gruelling programme, he had to attend lectures, and he himself had to give lectures, in addition to performing his duties and responsibilities as a resident neurosurgeon. But Aizawa had never failed in his entire life, especially not when it concerned the medical profession, _his_ medical profession, and he wasn't about to start now.

He was pulling a night shift that day, when he remembered her email. It had been a long one, and he had been telling himself he would find the time to reply, but he simply didn't have the time to, until now. There was a small window now, and he would make use of it.

He was glad that Natori had truly stepped up. He was worried about her, about Lifesaving, with him and Hiyama gone, but she had told him that they would be stronger, and he believed her. He had always had faith in her, after all, long before he told her to step up as a leader.

 _I'm glad all is well at Lifesaving_ , he typed.

It wasn't just him, he told her. The Fellows had all progressed, and grown stronger primarily because of her, their staff leader, their mentor. He wrote briefly about his residency, in short, succinct sentences.

 _I'm keeping well. The hours are long, but there is much to learn. The cases are interesting but so far, not too different to what I had experienced._

"Dr. Aizawa," a voice broke into his reverie, and he looked up to see Dr. Schoepp, a big burly German man, also a neurosurgery resident on the same programme, smiling at him. "E-mailing your wife, perhaps?"

Aizawa had learned that the Westerners had a lot less inhibition when it came to personal matters. It was one of the things that he needed to get used to. He also learned that it wasn't polite in the Western culture to ignore people, and _that_ was something he really struggled with, to be forced to give comments and answers to everything, although for him, it was almost always perfunctory.

"No, my…" he stopped. Ex-colleague? Comrade (although this term would be really strange to a German)? Friend? Shiraishi was more than all of that. She was his confidant, the person whom he knew would always be there for him, because it was the same, he would always be there for her. "My friend. Just a friend," he finished. It sounded lame, in his ears, because she was so much more significant than that.

"Ah, your 'friend'," Dr Schoepp said teasingly. "A woman?"

Aizawa forced a brief smile, but said nothing else. The German doctor, sensing he wanted to be left alone, nodded at him, and headed out to the wards, leaving him to his thoughts. He stared at his unfinished email.

 _I know you'll always put Lifesaving first, but take care of yourself_.

He could almost see her, looking at him with that look on her face – _I always take care of myself_ – and he thought to himself, _no, you don't do it enough_.

He was feeling it now, for what it really was.

He missed her.

* * *

Shiraishi perched herself on the railing surrounding the Heli launchpad, a can of iced coffee in her hand. She cast an almost involuntary glance at the spot next to hers, but of course he wasn't there. He had been gone for two months now, and whilst she had been slowly getting used to life without his physical presence, on some days, it was harder than others.

Today was one of those days.

It had been a tough day, for they had lost patients more than they could save. A horrific five-car pile-up had happened, and injuries were critical and grievous. Out of fifteen patients, they only managed to save five. Three of the dead were children, including one baby. Everyone was affected, herself, Fujikawa, Tachibana-sensei. It didn't matter how long you had been doing the job, after all, you are only human.

She felt a tear on her cheek, and she wiped it away, with an almost impatient air. The last time that Lifesaving suffered such a heavy loss, Aizawa was with her, at this exact spot. He had stood in front of her as she cried, reminiscent of the time he shielded her as she cried on the train. Except at that time, he had placed his hand on her head, and held her to his chest as she sobbed, instinctively giving her the comfort she needed.

She took out her phone, and scrolled to his last email, where he talked about, in short sentences, leading a team to perform a decompressive craniectomy. The surgery was successful, of course, and she could sense his sense of accomplishment from his precise words.

She tapped on reply button. _I never doubted that you would be the brightest resident there. As it goes, Aizawa-sensei will always be Aizawa-sensei._

She hesitated, wondering whether was it okay to respond to a positive email with negativity, but she knew that he wouldn't mind, it wouldn't matter to him. And she felt that she really needed him right now.

 _It was a hard day today_.

 _I wish you're here with me._

 _I can't seem to compartmentalise as well without you._

Her phone rang within five minutes of her sending the email, and intuitively, she knew that it was him. She swiped to answer the call, and as she heard his voice for the first time in two months, she could feel the tears coming, hard and fast.

"Shiraishi."

She tried to gain control of her voice before talking; she didn't want to break down.

"Don't cry."

That was it, her breaking point, hearing his voice and knowing that he _knew_ her, understood her, even with the distance and the time stretching between them.

She missed him, she really and truly missed him.

He listened quietly on the other end, as she cried for all the lives that they didn't managed to save that day. Eventually, she regained control of herself, and she felt maybe she should feel embarrassed about breaking down, but she didn't, not really. It was Aizawa, after all.

"I'm sorry, Aizawa-sensei," she sniffed. "This is the first time we're talking in two months, and I'm a mess."

"It's okay," he said, his voice low. "It doesn't matter."

There was pause, as she tried to search for words. She thought she should ask about him, so she did. "How are you? How's everything at Toronto?"

"Challenging," he said, after a brief pause. "And invigorating. Some things are certainly different here."

"Ah. I hope you're getting used to it."

"I am."

"I'm glad to hear that. Are you…making new friends?"

He gave a little snort, and she couldn't help laughing. "I have colleagues," he said. "We get along fine. There's a resident here that reminds me of Fujikawa, except he's smarter."

"Do not let Fujikawa hear you say that."

She could almost see him shrugging over the phone. "It doesn't matter if he does."

Shiraishi smiled. She knew that he was just joking in his own way, he held Fujikawa in high regard, despite his dismissive attitude towards him.

"Shiraishi. I have to go now. I have an early start in surgery today," he told her, his tone almost regretful.

She checked the time on her phone, and did a quick calculation. It was six o'clock in the morning for him. "I'm sorry! I didn't realise it was so early…I'm sorry for disturbing…"

"Shiraishi," there was the slightest tone of amusement in his voice. "I was the one who called you."

"Oh," she remembered, cradling the phone to her ear. "Well. Thank you for calling, Aizawa."

"You needed me to," he said simply, and she felt a smile breaking over her face.

* * *

It was Aizawa's fourth month in Toronto. He had settled in very well into his life there. Every single day was a challenge, and he enjoyed all the challenges. It was exciting to perform complicated surgeries, and to study about the most advanced surgical techniques and neurological research. He struggled with communication with the patients at first. Although he understood English very well, and was able to read and write fluently, speaking was the area he had problems with. It wouldn't have mattered if he was who he was ten years ago, but he was a different doctor now. Communication and compassion were essential parts of a great doctor and surgeon. Shiraishi taught him that.

But yes, all in all, he was used to life in Toronto. However, he still wasn't quite used to not having her with him. They emailed each other frequently, true, and spoke on the phone every now and then, but all of that sometimes made him miss her more, instead of less. Aizawa didn't realise how integral was Shiraishi to his life, until she wasn't physically with him anymore.

And this _thing_ between them remained undefined. He knew he had feelings for her, hell, he had known that for ages now, and he was confident that she did feel the same way, more or less. But he hesitated on defining it, because he was here, and she was there, and it would be this way for the next two and a half years.

The problem was, these feelings grew with the distance, instead of lessening.

He read her latest email on his way to surgery. Saejima was pregnant, and Fujikawa was ecstatic, but was now being over cautious to an extent that was starting to irritate his wife. _But Saejima is being really careful, too,_ she wrote, _and has stopped active Heli duties for the moment. We missed her efficiency, but Yukimura is almost as good as Saejima right now, so the team isn't affected in that sense._

 _Always thinking of Lifesaving_ , he thought. Lifesaving was synonymous with Shiraishi Megumi.

 _We'll be having a celebration dinner tonight, just the four of us; Hiyama organised it. I wish you could be here, too._

 _I miss you, Aizawa._

He stopped reading, his eyes trained on that one sentence. This was the first time that either of them had actually said it. It was always there, on the precipice, in all their emails, in every phone conversation, but they never wrote it, never verbalised it.

But it was there now, her words, in her voice, on the screen of his phone.

 _I miss you, Aizawa._

* * *

Shiraishi toasted Fujikawa and Saejima, and smiled, looking at how happy, how in love they were. Hiyama was making fun of Fujikawa in the usual Hiyama-way about how they better hoped the baby would have Saejima's looks and brains, with the orthopaedic surgeon protesting loudly about her cruelty.

His absence was strongly felt tonight, she was not the only who felt it. Fujikawa snapped a photo of all four of them, and sent it to Aizawa in an email, although he complained that Aizawa usually took almost a month to reply his emails.

He usually took about two days to reply to her emails. No matter how busy he was, there would be a reply. Sometimes only two sentences, or one sentence, but it was his name in her mailbox, and she treasured that.

Her phone beeped then, and she pulled it out, to see a notification on her inbox. His reply was short; he must had been really busy.

 _Please congratulate Fujikawa and Saejima for me._

 _I miss you, too, Shiraishi._

She stared at the last sentence of his email. Hurriedly, she scrolled down to her own email. _I miss you, too_ , he had written. She scanned through her email, and there it was, her own last sentence. She didn't even realised that she had included it. It was unconscious, unintentional, but she meant every word of it.

Her cheeks grew warm, and she held his words to her heart.

 _I miss you, too, Shiraishi._

* * *

Aizawa had been in Toronto for half a year. He arrived when it was spring, and now winter was approaching. Toronto winters were harsh, he was told, much harsher than Tokyo. But he would be all right; after all, it was only weather.

Still, he felt the cold when he returned to his apartment after long, tiring day in surgery, the kind of cold that wasn't entirely the fault of the weather. As he pulled out a beer from the fridge, he checked the time. It was nine o'clock at night, which meant it would be ten o'clock in the morning in Tokyo. It would be hectic in Emergency right now, and it would not be an appropriate time to call her. He pulled out the mail icon on his phone, and tapped an email instead.

 _It's the first day of winter today. Toronto winters are indeed colder than Tokyo. I had a long day in surgery, but all went well. I hope all is well with you._

He sent it, and placed his phone on the kitchen counter as he took out a frozen meal from the freezer. He put that into the microwave, and set the timer to two minutes. His phone rang, at the same time the timer went off.

He answered the call, and heard her voice on the other end of it.

"Hello, Aizawa?"

"Shiraishi," he responded, while retrieving his dinner from the microwave.

"I just read your email. Are you home now?"

"Yes, I am."

"That's good. Please keep warm. I hope you brought enough winter coats? And scarves?" Her tone was slightly anxious, and he was amused at that, she sounded like a worried mother hen.

"I'm fine, Shiraishi."

"I know you are."

He tore of the lid of his microwave dinner, tucking his phone between his ear and shoulder. "I'm surprised you are calling me. I thought you'd be too busy, at this time of the day."

"I just finished the night shift. I'm not on duty for the morning."

He raised an eyebrow. "Then you should be sleeping."

"I will, soon as I get off the phone with you, and finish writing these reports…" her voice trailed off as she heard him sighing. "I know what you're going to say," she added hurriedly. "I'm taking care of myself."

"I certainly hope you are," he said evenly. _Because I can't be there to take care of you._

"I miss you," she said suddenly, with a little laugh. "I miss you giving me that exasperated look, and telling me to worry about myself before anything else."

He held his phone to his ear, not quite knowing what to say, but suddenly, he didn't feel so cold anymore, as her words washed over him. And he missed her too. He didn't allow himself to think of that very often, but that was the truth.

And then it hit him, like a freight train, bulldozing through his thoughts.

 _I'm in love with her_.

* * *

Shiraishi yawned, stretching a little, and picked up her iced coffee, taking a long drink. It was a quiet night, which she was thankful for, as she needed to complete the Fellows' assessment for the month. It was going to be an easy report to write. All of them had performed exceptionally well, especially Natori. She didn't need to worry so much about Lifesaving anymore with their current calibre, and with Fujikawa and Tachibana-sensei being the seniors of the team.

Picking up her phone, she tapped on her mailbox, and saw a new email from Aizawa. Smiling, she opened it, and read the few sentences that it usually contained.

 _I'm coming back to Tokyo this week, just for a few days. Tokyo University is holding a medical conference centered on neurosurgery and neurological disorders, and I'm asked to attend it on behalf of Toronto University._

 _I hope to see you._

She stared at the email, the hand holding her phone shaking slightly. She was going to be able to see him, for the first time, after six months apart. He was coming back, not for her, but he was coming back to her. She could feel the beginning of tears stinging the back of her eyes. She had missed him, she had always been missing him, but she was surprised at how emotional she was feeling, at the prospect of being able to see him again.

Then all of a sudden, out of nowhere, it hit her, like a bolt of lightning.

 _I'm in love with him_.

Perhaps the depth of her emotions wasn't so surprising anymore.

* * *

Tonight was the night his plane landed from Toronto. His conference would not start until the day after tomorrow, and he had promised to stop by Shohoku tomorrow, to visit everyone. Fujikawa was already busy gathering the masses for lunch, and had even managed to get Hiyama to come.

Shiraishi had hoped to see him first, just the two of them. She felt like she needed to sort out her feelings, and this _thing_ between them. She managed to remain as she was over the emails exchanged since then, and the two phone calls they had, although she had not fully reconciled with the fact that she was in love with him, and probably had been for years. It was disconcerting (how could she not have realised it earlier), a little bit exhilarating, and she was scared, because she wasn't sure of his feelings.

But Fujikawa was so excited about arranging a reunion, and she didn't quite know how to tell him otherwise, that she wanted to see Aizawa before everyone else. It wasn't as if she wanted anyone to know of her feelings.

It was just going to be another few hours. She could wait. She had been waiting for six months.

She fished out her keycard, and her keys, and was about to enter her apartment complex, when she heard his voice.

"Shiraishi."

She turned around, and there he was, dressed in jeans, and a thick winter coat, his hand luggage with him, obviously having come straight from the airport after he landed. He didn't look too different from how he was when he left, perhaps just a little bit thinner, but it was him, it was _Aizawa,_ and he was standing in front of her.

"Aizawa," she whispered.

Her first instinct was to step forward and throw her arms around him, because she missed him _that_ much, and she loved him, but she held back. She smiled tumultuously, as he approached her, his eyes serious. They stood there, face to face, and she sensed him scrutinising her the way she had scrutinised him.

"You're thinner," he said. _You have not been looking after yourself well enough._

"So are you," she returned. _I told you not to survive on microwave meals._

He had that half smile on his face, as he continued looking at her. She looked down, toying with her keys, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at the hotel, resting? You had a long flight. And we were going to see each other tomorrow anyway, so…"

"Shiraishi," he interrupted her torrent of words. She stopped talking, and he took a step closer to her. He picked up her hand, and squeezed it, his eyes never leaving hers. "I'm here," he said clearly. "because I'm in love with you."

Aizawa was never one to mince his words or feelings, and he wasn't about to start now. He was in love with her, and she needed to know that.

She stared at him, her eyes wide, and she wondered whether did she fall asleep, and this was merely a dream. But it wasn't, because she could feel the cold winter air blowing through her hair, saw it ruffling his hair, and she could feel the warmth of his hand holding hers. She smiled at him, trying to contain her tears. There was no need for tears, after all.

She returned the pressure on his hand. "Okay," she said.

He raised an eyebrow. "Okay?" he repeated.

Shiraishi nodded, and took a deep breath. "I'm in love with you, too."

A slow smile spread across his face, and her own smile grew wider, as he pulled her into his arms, hugging her tight against him. They stood there, content in each other's arms and warmth, and then Aizawa pulled away. He placed his hand on her cheek, and she held his hand against her cheek with hers. He leaned closer, and then he kissed her, slowly, sweetly. She tasted like how he had imagined, all sweetness and heat, she tasted like _Shiraishi_ , and he felt like he never, ever wanted to stop kissing her.

They pulled apart when the need to breathe became a necessity, and then they stood there, looking at each other, their breaths mingling together. She tightened her hold on his upper arms, and she asked him. "Do you want to come in?"

He brushed back her hair with one hand, his gaze intense. "Yes," he answered. "Yes, I do."

* * *

Later that night, with her curled up in his arms, they talked about the future. Two and a half more years. That was the length of time they'd still be apart, one in Tokyo, the other in Toronto.

No one said it was going to be easy. It was going to be difficult. She was going to miss him even more when he left after this trip. And it would be the same for him.

But they could make it work; they had known each other for years, known each other so well. There was nothing between them that couldn't be said, so they could make it work. They _would_ make it work, because they were safe in the knowledge that they loved each other.

And it would all turn out the way it was supposed to, because they were meant to be, him and her. Because he loved her, had loved her for years, and she loved him, too.

* * *

A/N: Seriously, I just can't stop, can I? Too many Toronto scenarios in my head, and I had to get one out. I didn't go in to work today because I had been waylaid by a nasty flu, so I spent my day going through Toronto scenarios in my head, and this came out.

Absence makes the heart grows fonder, and makes the heart realises a lot of other stuff, this is what I'm trying to get at with this, haha.

I'm leaving to New Zealand for work tomorrow, so yes, the fandom _finally_ gets a break from me. In the meantime, I hope to be entertained by lots and lots of lovely fics from all the others. When I started writing for this fandom and this pairing, there were 3 fics (one was **Yuri Hannah's** , the other two was written yonks ago) I believe. Look at how far we had all come.

Reviews, comments, criticisms etc, as usual, are greatly loved and greatly appreciated. Thanks for reading! *multiple flying kisses*


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